Sparks Fly
by you bet giraffe
Summary: "Hi," Katie says. "You're my blind date?" / Taylor Swift song. For Melody.


**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:**

Written for the Weekly AU Competition (w1: blind date!au)

For Melody (MelodyPond77) for winning my Delirium Competition. Lara (Lara1221) picked the pairing of KBOW and Melody picked the plot (Tangled-esque).

Beta'd by the lovely Lizzie (TheNextFolchart). She understands my love for TaySway and wasn't afraid to tell me when I went overboard with Swiftie references.

19 February 2015. Inspired by Taylor Swift's "Sparks Fly." Word Count: 4,288

**"I don't kiss and tell."**

* * *

**Sparks Fly**

[-]

"You should've seen the size of his hands! Every time we reached into the breadbasket, I thought he would accidentally break my finger off instead of the bread. Oh, and his table manners were positively atrocious!"

Angelina snorts into her napkin and mutters, "Well, they don't call him Hook Hand for nothing, you know."

"Yeah," Katie sighs and takes a sip of her water. She has spent her whole lunch break recounting the nightmare of last night's date with Hook Hand to her best friend. "_Now_ I know."

"Okay, so wrestlers aren't your thing. How about mimes? George has a friend who has a friend who – "

"Angelina. No." Katie holds her hands palm face up in the universal sign for _stop_. "Why would I want to go on a date with a guy who is guaranteed to be a poor conversationalist?"

"Because he's a great listener?" Angelina offers meekly.

She shakes her head. "I don't need a great listener. I need..." Her voice trails off as she thinks about where her train of thought is going. "Actually, maybe the problem is that I _don't _need a man. I am a strong, independent twenty-six year old. I have a great job at Gringotts – "

"One that you're practically married to."

" – awesome friends – "

"Hell yeah, you do."

" – and love my life. I don't need some idiot with a penis to make my life any better because I already have everything I could ever want. Love is just a silly waste of time. Really, I appreciate everything you're doing, Angelina, but I'm happy being single. I don't want to sacrifice my happiness, okay?"

"Okay, but – "

"No buts." Katie stares out the deli window at the busy sidewalk. Maybe Mr. Right is somewhere out there but she doesn't have the time to waste waiting around for him to show. Mind made up, she places a few bills on the table and stands. "I've got to get back to the Tower. I'll see you and the girls at The Snuggly Duckling for Ladies' Night at nine. Drinks are on me." A few air kisses with her best friend, and then Katie is out the door.

x

Somehow, Katie finds herself on three more set-up dates. None of them work out: Big Nose still lives at home with his mother; Cupid is too smarmy; and Günter, in all honesty, probably isn't interested in her because she's the wrong gender. She feels like Goldilocks, except there is no perfect man for her. Alicia says she is being too picky, while Leanne agrees with Katie that she shouldn't settle. And Angelina continues to set up one disastrous date after another for Katie despite her protests.

It's after a terrible night at the cinema with Date #5 (it's gotten to the point where she can't even remember her dates' real names beyond the rude-but-true nicknames she's given them) when Katie goes to The Snuggly Duckling to decompress. At four in the morning on a Wednesday, the late-nighters at the bar have pretty much cleared out. Her friends are all in happy and committed relationships (part of the reason why they're so eager for her to join the Happy Relationship Club), so none of them are available to listen to her latest dating woes at such an odd hour. Free, confused, and lonely at the same time, she takes a seat at the bar and stares moodily at the telly blaring a re-run of Sunday's football match.

"I'll be right with ya, sweetheart," the bartender says.

He's busy wiping off tables with a rag. The air is dim and hazy; Katie stares at his silhouette across the room. In the neon lighting of the beer adverts and smokey miasma, the way his body moves reminds her of a full-on rainstorm. His electric gaze catches her peeking at him, but he doesn't seem to mind. He continues wiping off each table in a random Z-pattern that misses all four corners, and then stuffs the dirty rag into his back pocket. It makes the obsessively organised part of her cringe. He comes back to the bar, then, and jumps over the counter.

"So," he says, leaning towards her on his forearms. "What can I get you?"

He stands there in front of her, just close enough to touch, but close enough that she hopes he can't see what she is thinking of. Her traitorous mouth blurts out her embarrassing thoughts, though, so it's a moot point.

"Do you have the perfect man hidden somewhere inside those liquor cabinets?" she asks. "One who has good table manners, doesn't live at home with his mum, looks a girl in the eyes when he talks to her and not her boobs, is interested in females, and doesn't stand her up on their dates?"

"Ouch." He winces. "I hope you're not speaking from personal experience?"

"Unfortunately, I am."

"That's rough, sweetheart. I'm sorry. No one deserves to be treated like that."

She shrugs. "It is what it is." She flicks her eyes over to the beer menu. "So, what do you recommend?"

"About the dating situation? I'd say take a break from it all. Love is overrated, anyways."

"No," she says, a smirk curling at the corner of her lips. "I was asking about the beer. But thanks for the advice, too."

"Oh." She's not sure if the bartender is blushing – it's too dark to see in here – but he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. "Er, try the House of Cards. It's a mixed drink, not a beer, and a local specialty."

"Sounds good."

He gathers up the ingredients and starts shaking things together in a seemingly unsystematic way. It's so sloppy that it almost sends her running. Bartender guy seems like a live-in-the-moment kind of person; while it repulses her, she is simultaneously intrigued by his imprecision because her carefully planned out life is anything but filled with reckless abandon.

With a final complicated and quite impressive twist-and-shake, he presents the drink to her with a flourish. "Thanks," she says and takes a sip. Her eyes widen appreciatively. "Wow, this is good."

"You like?" he says with a smug smile. "My own recipe."

"You're very good at what you do."

"Nah, I'm a walking disaster. All limbs and two left feet, you know? In a perfect world, I'd still be playing professional football and wouldn't have blown my left knee out. Instead, I'm just a bartender trying to scrape by. But, wow, you probably don't care about my sob story."

"No, no," Katie interrupts his self-pity. "I do care. Football – wow. You know, when I was younger I fancied myself to be the next Mia Hamm."

He laughs. "I believe it."

"Yeah, funny how little kid dreams never work out? Sometimes I want to go back in time and tell my younger self to never grow up. I love my life right now but it was all so much easier in my firefly catching days."

"Exactly."

After that, the conversation slows and the two people left in the otherwise vacant room exist in comfortable silence. He goes back to the long list of chores he has to complete before closing while she sips her drink and alternates between watching him and the telly. When she is finished, she pays. He glances down at her receipt, mouthing the name he finds there. Smiling, he says her name for the first time – "Have a good morning, Katie," – and she falls in love in an empty bar.

x

"God, you look like shit."

Katie yawns and clutches her cup of tea as if it is the drink of the gods. "Hello to you, too."

"No, really," Angelina says. She eyes Katie suspiciously. "Did you stay up all night at the office?"

"_No_," Katie responds indignantly. "Ange, I'm not _that_ much of a workaholic."

"Uh, yeah you are. Gringotts Tower is basically your home away from home. Numbers and money are your babies. Nuh-uh, don't deny it." Angelina tears pieces off of her breakfast croissant and chews thoughtfully. "Okay, so you weren't pulling major overtime. Wait – was it Date #5? Oh my God, it was, wasn't it! Did you two stay up all hours and have hot sex?"

"What? No! I've never even met Date #5!"

Angelina pauses mid-chew. She gave Katie the squinty eye. "Are you saying he stood you up?"

She nods sleepily. "Yeah."

"Man, I'm going to _kill_ that little bastard! How dare he? Aw, babe, I'm so sorry. No wonder you spent hours crying last night. You know who's great at dealing with heartbreak? Oliver. Here, let me call him up and – "

"Who said anything about crying? I wasn't crying. God, Ange, get off my case, okay? Not every issue has to be resolved with a guy!"

"I'm going to blame your bitchiness on sleep-deprivation," Angelina says, "because that was not cool, Katie. I'm only trying to help; one would think you'd be a bit more appreciative of my efforts."

"I do appreciate what you've done, Angelina," Katie responds, lying through her teeth in order to spare her best friend's feelings. "But I can't do this blind dating thing anymore. I'm happy for you and George and I admire the love you two have. I can't blame you for wanting the same thing for me, but I won't be able to find that sort of forever love if you don't let me have control over my own dating life."

Angelina narrows her eyes. "You met someone, didn't you?"

Katie blinks, stalling. "I met someone?"

"You did! You so totally did! Oh my God, you bitch, how could you keep this from me?"

"When I think of term of endearments, for some reason 'bitch' doesn't seem to be at the top of my list."

"So not the point. Come on, spill. When did you meet him? Where? How?"

"Oh, wow. Would you look at the time? I've got to get going before I'm late for work. Nice talking to you, Ange." And then Katie makes another of her infamous, hasty departures. She wants to be selfish and keep her bartender crush to herself for a little while longer – Angelina will undoubtedly wrestle the details out of her sooner rather than later – in order to preserve the magical night she had with him before reality ruins it all.

x

"Hey, you're back."

She raises her fingers in hello, too tired to do much else.

"Uh oh," he says. "Long night?"

Katie lets out a long, gusty sigh. "Something of the sort. Could I try another of your custom recipes?"

"Sure." He slides the drink over to her and sits down, ready to listen.

Katie doesn't know what it is about him that makes her open up – maybe she _does_ need a good listener – because she's usually on her guard with the rest of the world. But with him, anything is fair game. This is the fifth week that they've talked until the morning light about their jobs (she's a financial advisor at the biggest bank in the country, he's still looking for work better than bartending), dreams (football for both of them), secrets, and past dates. He's the most competitive person she has ever met (today's topic is who had the worst first date; he's winning) and still recklessly impulsive (the boy has absolutely no filter) but she likes it. He's honest and most importantly, he's real.

x

"Katie, _what_ is going on?"

"Nothing's going on."

"Bullshit," Alicia states. She tosses back her drink and points a finger at Katie. "You're seeing someone, aren't you?"

"I asked her that a month ago but she denied it," Angelina interrupts.

Katie makes a face. "Maybe because I'm telling the truth?"

There is a brief pause as the girls contemplate this possibility. Leanne breaks it by saying casually, "Why do you keep looking over at the bar?"

Thinking quickly, Katie shakes her empty cup of ice. "Just keeping an eye on the line before I refill."

The girls look at her disbelievingly but thankfully let the subject drop. Katie lets out a sigh of relief and takes another surreptitious peek at the bar. Apparently, he doesn't do the early night shift. She's simultaneously disappointed and relieved that the girls won't know his identity.

"God, who is playing tonight?" Alicia scowls as the wailing of guitars and scream-shouting assaults everyone's ears. "The music is terrible."

"We should go. Tonight'll be a waste, otherwise," Leanne says.

"Go where? The Snuggly Duckling is our thing."

Angelina shrugs. "I heard The Shrieking Shack is pretty decent. Why don't we check it out?"

"That's the new club that opened a few weeks ago, right?" Katie asks. When Angelina says yes, Katie nods her head. "Sure, why not? Let's go."

The four of them leave their bar and hop into the trendy new club in the more modern part of the city. The strobe lights are flashing and the bass reverberates through their bones. The energy is infectious, and soon the girls are swept away into the mass of sweaty, gyrating bodies. Leanne pardons herself first to go find a table for them while Alicia hits up the bar. Angelina and Katie continue to laugh and dance together, making a competition out of who has the silliest and most ridiculous dance moves.

"Hey!" Angelina screams suddenly. "I think I see somebody I know! Stay put, okay? I'll be right back!"

And just like that, Katie is ditched. She sighs – this is typical Angelina club behaviour – and she continues to dance solo, albeit less enthusiastically. She tries to find where Leanne is but the place is too crowded with too many cool kids. The song shifts into something slower and more retro and people start to pair up on the dance floor.

"Hey, baby, where you going?" one man slurs. Hot hands are on her waist and she bats them away immediately.

"Get off," she says.

"Don't mind if I do," someone else murmurs and suddenly there's a strange pelvis grinding against her ass.

"Ew, God, gross," Katie cringes and tries even harder to leave the dance floor. When she finally breaks through, she exhales in relief and plops down where Leanne has claimed a table for them.

"You all right?"

"Yeah, fine. I was just reminded why I'm not into the club scene anymore," Katie replies.

Leanne nods in understanding. "I got you, girl."

They sit together in silence as they watch the mess of sweaty, dancing people. Katie sees Alicia is still at the bar and Angelina is God-knows-where. For the first time, she realises her friends went to the club for her sake. They're not looking to hook-up because they already have a boy back home waiting for them; they're here to help her look for a guy.

"Leanne? You know what, we should probably get going. This night will be a bum not matter what we do or where we go."

"What?" she says, looking up from her phone screen. "Sorry, Ernie just texted. Hey, look, there's Angelina."

"Guys!" Angelina squeals upon approaching the table. "Look who I found!"

Katie turns in her seat only to find herself captivated by familiar green eyes.

"Hullo," says the guy she's previously only seen bartending at four in the morning at The Snuggly Duckling.

"Remember my cousin Oliver, Katie? I was telling you about him a while back," Angelina introduces him.

"Erm... no?"

"Ouch," Oliver winces with a chuckle. "Am I really that forgettable?"

"No!" Katie says much too quickly. "I mean..." Her voice trails off and then turns accusing towards her best friend. "You never said anything about him, Ange!"

"Whoops, my bad," Angelina shrugs. "Oh well. Now's your chance to get to know each other!" She drags Leanne out of her chair by the hand and the two disappear off into the crowd.

"Oh my God, no," Katie says. "I won't let you be another blind date she sets me up with."

Oliver laughs and runs his fingers through his hair. "Cool, whatever, sweetheart. Just friends, am I right?"

"No," she replies. "I mean, yes. But no."

"What?"

She shakes her head. "I don't know what I'm saying. Come with me to get a drink?"

"Sure."

Katie grabs his hand – his touch feels even better than she had imagined it would be – and leads him to where Alicia's arms are filled with shots.

"Thank goodness you all are here," Alicia says. "Bring these back to the table, okay? I'll be there in a minute." She unloads her loot into their arms, winks, and then leaves.

Oliver shares a look with Katie. "Is it just me or are your friends conspiring together?"

"It's not just you," Katie mutters. "The funny thing is they think they're being oh-so subtle."

"Cute."

"Annoying is more like it. But they mean well, so it's whatever." They set the drinks down and Katie eyes the brightly coloured liquid with a critical eye. "What do you think this radioactive green one is, Oliver? Will it give me superpowers?"

He doesn't answer. When Katie looks up, she sees the reason why. He's halfway across the room, hand-in-hand with a busty blonde.

"Jesus Christ, is my company really that bad?" Katie mutters to herself. She hopes no one looks in her direction because she looks like a total loser hanging out alone at the table with a rainbow array of Jell-O shots in front of her.

"Hey, where's Oliver?" Angelina asks when she stops by minutes later. Alicia and Leanne soon join and seem confused as to why Katie is by herself.

She snags the shot as green as jealousy and gets drunk on it. "There with another girl," she says bitterly as she points in the direction of where he and the blonde vanished off to.

Angelina sighs. "Oh, Katie-Cat, I'm sorry. He told me lately he's been out and about with some other girl but he promised he was totally open about giving you a chance."

"Yeah, well, I'm over it. I'm calling it a night, okay? See you guys later." Katie grabs her coat and purse and heads home, leaving behind what had the potential to become a beautiful night.

x

She throws herself into her financial advising and barely leaves the Tower. Katie doesn't go out to The Snuggly Duckling anymore even though she knows he doesn't have any shifts the times the girls like to go out for drinks after work. Her friends tiptoe around her – she's been in nothing but a bad mood since that night at The Shrieking Shack – and Angelina stops pestering her with dates. They try to get her to talk about what happened so they can understand what she's going through but she refuses to speak a word.

Oliver calls her (another reason why she won't speak to the girls is because she knows one of the traitors let slip her digits to him); she doesn't pick up, ignores his voicemails each time. It's petty and silly but she really thought all of those early morning talks they shared meant the same thing to him as it did to her. She's been burned by love too many times in the past; Katie convinces herself that this is all for the best. She's going to let this one go before it can hurt her anymore.

x

"Come on, get your ass up," Alicia says as she and Angelina burst into Katie's office in the Tower. Angelina pauses for a moment to admire the one hundred and fourth story view of the city skyline before focusing on Katie. Leanne trails in after the girls, smiling apologetically at Katie.

"What? What's going on?"

"An intervention, that's what," Angelina says. "We're sick and tired of all this moping, Katie. You need help."

"Oh, no," Katie shakes her head vehemently. "From you, that means a blind date."

"You bet your ass that's what I'm talking about."

"No," Katie says. "I know you haven't listened to me in the past when I said no, but I really mean it, Angelina. I won't do it. I'm fine being single."

"You are _not_ fine!" Alicia cries. "Look at you, holed up here when you could be living your life out there with Mr. Right!"

"No."

"Yes," Leanne interjects. "Please, Katie. It's for the best."

She is still protesting no when they take her home and force her into her best dress. She keeps saying no when Alicia does her make-up and Leanne twists her hair and they make her into someone who she's not. No, no, no.

They take her to Leanne's flat and leave her blindfolded in the lobby. "Have fun," they chorus as they sing-song away.

"No," is her response.

x

She doesn't know how long she ends up waiting but she does yank off the blindfold the minute she knows her best friends are gone. This is the first time they've forcibly made her make an effort on one of these blind dates so she knows it's serious and that they hope this works out, but Katie is determined to be on her worst behaviour because she does not need love in her life, God dammit.

"Wow," a deep voice says.

She whirls away from staring out the window and looks at him.

He keeps his eyes on her face as he steps closer and closer. After months of avoiding him, this direct amount of attention sends a thrill up her spine. It's wrong enough to make it feel right. One look at him and all of the walls she has built for the past two months since the night of The Shrieking Shack come crumbling down.

"Hello."

"Hi," Katie says back cautiously. "You're my blind date?"

"I don't know about blind because what I'm seeing is better than anything my imagination could come up with." She winces and he does too. "God, tell me I didn't say that out loud?"

"You did."

"Damn. Okay. So, obviously we need a do-over because I think our history is messing everything up between us."

_No_, she thinks. _You're doing a pretty good job of it without history's help._

He sticks out his hand. "Hi, I'm Oliver Wood."

"Katie Bell."

"Nice to meet you. Okay. Um."

She stares at him. "You can let go of my hand now."

"Right!" He drops her hand suddenly.

"Are we going to have our date in the lobby?" she ask when he makes no move to get their date going.

"No, actually we're..." His face brightens at some internal thought. "No, we are not. Here, grab my hand." He takes her hand in his before she can tell him that they already shook hands in the introduction. Oliver leads her up a staircase – actually, many flights of stairs. Does he think physical exercise is romantic or something? – until they are at the last door available. At the top of the building, he whispers soft and slow, "A rooftop garden date all right with you?"

Katie drops the irritated act and smiles widely as she reaches out open-handed and leads him out to the top floor.

x

"So what happened next?"

Instead of just Angelina, all of the squad is at the deli Angelina and Katie like to take their lunch at. For the first time in forever, Katie is sharing the details about her Best First Date Ever instead of the worst first date.

She swoons as she recounts how much effort Oliver put into decorating (though she secretly suspects her besties did most of the planning). "He was so sweet – he put up glowing, paper lanterns that looked like floating stars in the night sky. There was music and food and it was all so perfect like something straight out of a movie."

"Yeah, but what about the fireworks? Tell me he used them and that sparks were flying," Alicia says impatiently.

"Fireworks? No. Don't you remember that it was raining last Friday?"

"Oh, yeah. So what did you do then?"

Katie smiles secretively. "I don't remember."

The girls all let out a collective shriek. "Yes, you so totally do! Tell us!"

She shakes her head as she flashbacks to that night. The rain had crept up on them and let loose a torrent from the sky. Oliver and Katie were so shocked that they dropped everything in their hands and stared in disbelief at one another. The next thing sort of happened in a blur: she wasn't sure if she moved towards him or he moved towards her but suddenly they met in the pouring rain and kissed each other on the rooftop.

"Oh. My. God!" they yell again, ignoring the dirty looks the other deli customers sent their way. "You two kissed!"

Katie grins but doesn't say anything.

"What was it like?" Leanne asks.

"I don't kiss and tell."

"Since when? You went on for _hours_ about Cupid's slobbery tongue," Angelina points out.

"Starting now," Katie answers. She remembers the kiss was like a car crash (but in the best way possible) because she remembers the before (her thoughts went something like: _Because my heart is beating fast and you are beautiful. And I could wait patiently but I really wish you would just kiss me already_) and the after (_it was perfect, it was flawless_) but not the actual kiss.

The door to the deli opens and her boyfriend steps in. "Hey," Oliver says, walking over towards them. He kisses her hello, much to the delight of Katie's best friends. "What did I miss?"

"Apparently Katie here doesn't kiss and tell, but maybe you will for us?" Alicia says.

"Ignore her. You didn't miss anything," Katie tells him. "But I missed you."

[-]


End file.
